Tethers
by LunarFlare14
Summary: Stiles never thought fairies would be his down fall. Now Stiles is kind of forced to "haunt" his friends who can't see or hear him. He's still hoping he isn't actually a ghost. No body no crime, right? Or something like that. It was a good sign if Stiles was quoting Psych. But while everyone slowly comes to accept Stiles is gone, Derek refuses to give up on him. Sterek Stiles/Derek
1. Chapter 1

It happened when fairies were the monster of the week. Fucking fairies. It wasn't how Stiles thought he'd go that was for sure. For once he hadn't had to research, because fairies had been a problem only a few months before the Hale Fire and Derek had been allowed to help. They were mostly just pranksters, but they liked to prank the pack the most so they had to go. Go figure the time they actually know what to do would be the time that it all went to hell.

The spell to banish the fairies involved sage, deer urine, and a ring of pure iron. Which was gross by the way. The pack, Scott and Stiles had armed themselves with a couple of old iron crowbars. Stiles, of course, was the only one that could probably pull the stupid ritual/spell thing off so that duty fell to him. Well, he probably could have argued that point, but Derek could still probably snap him in half and not in the good way... not that Stiles wanted Derek to snap him in half in the good way.

Anyway, they were in the middle of the woods at midnight and Stiles was chanting in Latin or Fairynese for all he knew as the pack, Allison and Scott stood around him at the ready. They could see the lights that would randomly dance through the trees slowly going out. Derek encouraged Stiles to keep going, sounding excited. Stiles knew it was because a plan was actually working for once. But as it turned out, the fairies weren't too keen on being shoved back into fairyland.

Suddenly, he and Derek were tackled to the ground by seven or eight of the things. Stiles did his best to keep chanting, even with the wind knocked out of him. The ring around the fire was glowing which meant they were almost done. Stiles tried to stand but was shoved hard by another bunch of fairies. His foot caught on the iron ring and he stumbled, falling towards the fire. Stiles saw Derek reaching out to stop him, a look of horror in his eyes, but then it all went black.

When Stiles came back to reality it was quiet. He was on the ground on other side of the fire and unharmed. Everyone was staring at the fire silently. Stiles just kept looking from shocked face to shocked face as he sat up.

"Did it work?" he asked. No one even looked at him. "Guys... you're freaking me out."

Slowly, everyone started to look at Derek. Derek didn't take his eyes off the flames. Scott was the first one to speak. "Where'd he go?"

Stiles frowned. "Where did who go?"

Derek looked up and over at Scott. "He was just..." He trailed off and stepped closer to the fire. Walking around it, Derek seemed to be looking at it from every angle, like if he found just the right view of it he could figure it out.

Stiles stood slowly before following Derek on his next pass around the fire. "Look, Der, calm down a second would you?" Stiles reached out to grab Derek's shoulder. Instead of the dark cotton in his fingers, Stiles' hand went right though. "What the fuck?" Derek stopped walking and looked around but Stiles was only half paying attention. "Am I a ghost? Seriously? Shouldn't I be, like, staring down at my dead body or something- whoa!" Turning around, Derek pretty much walked right through him, stopping just behind Stiles. "Watch it, alpha boy! I may be incorporeal but I will haunt the shit out of you. So stop."

Derek didn't look at him because yeah, invisible.

Scott stepped forward. "Derek?"

"I don't... he's not here," was Derek's intelligent reply.

The pack all exchanged looks and Allison made her way over to Scott. Erica moved closer to Boyd, looking uncertain. They met half way. The obviously growing romance would be cute if Stiles was solid. Derek's eyes were on the fire, like he could stare it into giving Stiles back.

"Do you think the fairies took him?" Everyone looked to Boyd. While he wasn't a man of many words, the ones he mustered were always quality.

Derek's brows furrowed. "You can't just take a human to their realm. It would be such a shock to the system that Stiles would be-" Derek stopped talking as the idea sunk in. "But that is not what happened."

Scott squeezed Allison's hand. "I'm gonna have to tell his dad."

Everyone, even Derek, looked at Scott. "I'll come with you."

Scott's laugh sounded broken and Stiles wished he could hug him. "Because that is a good idea."

"It's my fault. We'll tell him together. Tell him the truth." Derek seemed to be only just holding it together and shit. Derek thought this was his fault. Well it was a little his fault but Derek was brooding with guilt already from the rest of the shit that went down in his life. And holy shit, his Dad was going to break down.

"Whoa, I am not gone, I'm right here. Don't you let them give up on me, Der. You're supposed to be the leader! Reason with them!" No one could hear him and it was getting frustrating—being there but not at the same time.

The group didn't say anything after that. Derek put out the fire, and they all migrated back towards the cars. Derek gave his keys to Isaac and the pack piled in the Camero. Allison, Scott and Derek went for his Jeep. "Wait, Scott, no. I don't care if I'm dead or invisible or whatever I will not have your paws on my baby." Derek made his way to the front and soon after it turned on. "The son of a bitch hotwired my jeep! I've been gone five minutes!"

Realistically Stiles knew they couldn't just leave his car in the middle of the woods. It wasn't their fault his keys were in his pocket when he pulled a Houdini. He wanted to just stay in the woods. He didn't want to see his dad's face or watch them mourn him. But as Allison and Scott slid into the back, Stiles felt a tug-a need to go with them. He was debating how to ride along without being able to open the door when he was suddenly in the passenger's seat. "I can teleport? Nifty."

When they got to Stiles' house, he imagined himself to the porch while he waited for everyone else to catch up. "I'm going to miss this teleporting thing if you guys ever figure out I'm not dead-dead."

Stiles would hold onto the hope he wasn't really dead until they found a body. Scott knocked on the front door. Stiles dad was actually home tonight but he thought Stiles was at Scott's. This wasn't going to end well. Stiles stood with his friend, unseen but unable to let him face it alone.

The door opened, his father looked like he'd just woken up. When he saw the three of them fear crossed his face. "Where's Stiles?"

Scott took a deep breath and his voice came out crack. "It's a long story... one that you might want to be sitting down for."

Stiles' dad only nodded and they all headed for the living room. There was a glass on the coffee table and Stiles frowned. Then again his dad would probably need that drink after this talk. "You going to finally tell me what's been going on?"

They all sat down, and Derek took point. "This is going to be hard to believe, but you need to know. So just, brace yourself for a second." The expression on his dad's face was skeptic. But he sat back and waited. When Derek transformed Stiles' swore his father had been close to shitting himself.

"What the hell, kid?"

"I'm a werewolf. The whole Hale family was for the most part..."

Scott chimed in. "Back when you guys found Laura? She was killed by his uncle, Peter. He wanted to be Alpha."

"Wait, the guy who was catatonic?" Yeah, Stiles supposed he should have known his dad knew about that. He was one of the cops who had worked the Hale Fire.

Derek nodded. "Yeah, except it drove him crazy and he bit Scott."

"Wait, Scott's a werewolf?"

Scott nodded this time. "That's why Stiles was caught up in all this supernatural shit that's been going down. It happened when we went out in the wood to look for Laura's body."

His dad picked up his drink and drank it. "This is a lot to take in. Wait... what do you mean was?"

Derek looked at the floor. "Tonight we were expelling fairies from town. Stiles preformed the spell while we protected him. He fell across the spell circle and… disappeared. He's missing."

Stiles dad ran a hand across his face. "Did they take him?"

"If they did… he'd be either concussed or comatose in the fairy realm. He'd need help immediately and we have no way to reach him."

Stiles had never seen his dad look so scared in all his life. What was weird was Derek looked about the same.

"The spell takes a finesse none of us has. I would need a proper witch. Stiles only worked because he's a spark. Not a full magic user… but something. I need to research it; make sure that is what happened and find something to bring him back."

Oh God, Derek was forming some kind of plan. His plans never worked. Besides, Stiles was most definitely not in the fairy world if he was watching them plot. If Derek was taking the lead, Stiles was dead for sure if he wasn't already. Life had been so much easier without magic.

Stiles dad was smiling sadly as he started to shake. "She always said he was special… And all this time he was dealing with this and lying to protect ME." He met Derek's eyes and stared the alpha down. "How long would he have?"

Derek looked away first. "If that is what happened to him?... Maybe a couple days. According to all the info I've got time doesn't work the same in the Fae." Wow, so his chances were shit. That was always good to know. Derek the Blunt. Always a comfort.

The sheriff buried his head in his hands. That was when Derek stood abruptly and knelt next to him. "I am not giving up on him. He's alive. I know it." There was a certainty there that Stiles had never heard before, well, not directed at him. John looked up to meet Derek's eyes.

"What if you don't find a way soon?"

"I keep looking for a way. Stiles is smart and strong. He'd find a way to survive there." Derek meant that and Stiles smiled sadly, because obviously not. Way to give him a vote of confidence now, sourwolf.

It gave his dad some comfort, so Stiles decided to just be grateful. Hope could be dangerous if he really was dead and a ghost. This sucked royally, not knowing what the hell was going on. Typical. He couldn't just be allowed to pass on. He had to watch their mad scramble to rescue him. Stiles hated everything. Stiles' dad stood then and so did Derek. "This is really crazy, Hale. Beyond crazy."

"I know… I'm sorry." Derek looked at the floor and Stiles remembered that he was, what? Twenty three?

His dad put a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Get him back."

"Yes, Mr. Stilinski."

"If you need anything, you let me know. Who's your point of contact on this?"

Derek bit his lip, uncertain. "Deaton-at the vets office. He's a kind of… medicine man."

That was one way of putting it. The sheriff took that in stride. "I'll put out a missing persons. We'll start a search. I have to go be the frantic worried father. You do what you've got to. And don't think this is the last of it. I expect a full account of everything that's been going on once Stiles is found."

Derek and Scott nodded together. They all moved towards the door and Stiles turned and stepped right through Allison. He'd forgotten she was there, quietly hovering in the background. When Scott passed she took his hand. Eyes meeting they walked out together in silence. Derek turned and headed towards town, not looking back. This time when they left Stiles didn't feel the tug he did in the woods. His dad was pulling on his sheriff jacket and getting in his police car, cell phone already to his ear.

Stiles teleported to his room just to have something to do. Looking around his room suddenly made him feel exhausted. He wondered if he could sleep, being a ghost. It was unlikely, but why not, right? The real trick would be not falling through the mattress. He concentrated on being on his bed. The teleport thing apparently worked for that too. It didn't feel soft and he didn't sink into it, but he was on it and that was some kind of victory. Laying back, he closed his eyes and tried to let his mind slip away. It wasn't long before he felt the familiar lull in his mind that was drifting off.

Suddenly he was in anguish. "Holy fucking sweet Jesus—" The blasphemies came out in one long slew. Every inch of his body screamed and he wasn't on his bed. He was in a leaf bed and a cold hand pressed to his forehead.

He sat upright and found himself back in his room. "What the hell just happened?"

Stiles didn't dare fall asleep again… just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles practiced teleporting around his house and pretending to be solid for a couple hours before he got bored. It was pretty easy from what he could gather. But he couldn't seem to teleport beyond the front gate of the house. It was weird. Guess being a spirit had limits. That was sad. He had wanted to teleport somewhere like France or Las Vegas or a strip club. It may have just been that he was not familiar enough with those places, but it felt deeper than that. He couldn't teleport across the street or outside the fence even. It wasn't long before he was trying to see how far he could push the teleporting. He'd followed Scott, Derek and Allison to his house. Maybe he could teleport to someone he knew.

Stiles had nothing but time to test it out.

It was simple enough concentrating on Scott, on being next to Scott. That was a pretty constant state for Stiles. Next thing Stiles knew he was in Scott's room standing next to Scott's bed.

His best friend had his face buried in the crook of Allison's neck. It was obvious he had been there a while. Allison just ran her hand through his hair aimlessly—her eyes rimmed red like she had been crying.

Stiles needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Stiles decided to check in on his dad. It seemed like a safe bet since he should be at the station. In an instant, Stiles was next to John. He had a map of Beacon Hills spread out on the desk in front of him. That his dad was treating this like a real search was probably just a distraction from the whole 'my son was taken by magic' thing. The tension in his shoulders said it all, how futile he knew these efforts were and how he could care less because it was something to do. When your kid is missing, you're expected to search like a mad man until you find them.

The sheriff looked tired. Stiles had hoped this would be less painful then Scott. If all went well, which it never did but IF it did, he'd be home soon.

Stiles wondered how Derek's research was going.

Suddenly, he was at the vets office and, frick, he hadn't meant to do that. The place was obviously closed, but Derek and Deaton were huddled around an examination table covered in books. Both of them were reading from separate books frantically. For a moment Stiles wondered why they hadn't asked Scott or the rest of the pack or Scott to join in the search through the old and dusty looking texts. The mental image of that many werewolves in one closed in space was his answer. Stiles went to Derek's side and read over his shoulder.

It was a book on the fairy courts. Go figure. If the aggression in the page flipping was any indication, Derek was not finding what he was looking for.

Deaton's phone went off and Derek jumped. They both stopped their search as Deaton answered it. "Holly? Thank goodness, do you have something?"

Derek and Stiles watched intently as Deaton hummed recognition over the phone. At one point both their faces were grave and Stiles knew it was bad, whatever news they just got.

"No." Derek said finally. Deaton shook his head. "We can't wait that long. He'll be dead."

Deaton hung his head. "I'm sorry, Derek. Holly knows these things better than anyone I know. If she says the door won't open again until Litha, she means it."

"What gives Holly such authority on fairies?"

By the expression on Deaton's face, he was having none of Derek's shit. "She's half fairy." The exasperation in the room could be cut with a knife. "There are more than those sprites in the Fae. He could have been picked up by a more benevolent spirit. You need to calm down. I know the boy was pack—"

Derek bared his teeth. "Shows what you know. Stiles doesn't want to be part of the pack. He's with Scott." The clinic went silent because Derek had a point. If Deaton looked confused well Stiles wasn't going to blame him. Derek sighed running a hand down his face. "I'm still responsible for them when we're fighting together. I still..."

Deaton seemed to get it after that, and so did Stiles. After everything, Derek didn't want to lose someone else, even if it was just the hyperactive sidekick.

"I am going to keep looking. Mind if I…?" Derek gestured to the books on the table and Deaton nodded.

"Take them, all of them."

Derek began to pile the books together neatly as he pulled out his phone. He cradled it on his shoulder as he gathered up the sources. Stiles wondered if there was a method to it because it really needed better organization. Some kind of filing system perhaps?

"Isaac? Bring the car over to the clinic. I've got some stuff I'm taking up to the house. Yeah, Erica and Boyd don't need to come… just get over here." He hung up roughly and Deaton brought out a couple of bags for Derek to carry it all in. "Thanks."

"You couldn't have predicted this, Derek. It isn't your fault." The vet stared Derek down, but he wasn't having it.

Stiles flailed. "Yes! Thank you! Oh my gosh, someone needed to say it. He's such a martyr."

"Either way, I'm going to get him back."

Deaton nodded as Derek took the bags full of books with him. Stiles felt that tug again—the urge to follow even though he didn't really want to, and shit, fine. Following Derek was better than nothing. At least he didn't think Stiles was already dead.

Isaac pulled up in the Camaro not long after they stepped outside. The whole time Derek was this nervy, twitchy mess. Constantly looking around like he didn't know what to expect, so he just stayed on this edge. Stiles never saw Derek like this. Even when everything was falling apart Derek did his best to be in control. Watching Derek fidget like he couldn't help it was weird.

The alpha being on edge put Isaac on edge right away and the whole ride to the Hale house was just one awkward fidget fest while Stiles rolled his eyes in the backseat.

Derek needed to calm down or the whole pack would be this way. Erica and Boyd being jumpy usually meant the destruction of property. He was pretty sure that their parents couldn't afford that.

When they pulled up to the charred shell of Derek's childhood the werewolves piled out and Stiles teleported to the porch to wait for them. Still the most awesome thing ever—thinking of it and BAM! There.

Turned out that Derek had some weird blanket nest at the old Hale House that he curled up in with all the books he took from Deaton. Isaac had a thing set up in the back, some kind of cot/blow up mattress.

"Ugh, I'm going to go crazy not being able to touch stuff."

As per the usual, Derek didn't react to what he said. Oddly enough, he did start leaving books open on interesting pages when he was done with them so it kept Stiles a little entertained.

The sun started coming up and it occurred to Stiles that Derek hadn't slept. "Dude, you should get some sleep. Even I slept during long nights of research." Derek rubbed his eyes and blinked hard. "Yeah, even werewolves got to get some shut eye, Der-bear."

Stiles had huffed in frustration when suddenly Derek closed the book and slumped back into his bed nest thing with obvious reluctance. How was it Stiles was winning more battles when his side of the argument couldn't be heard?

It was fascinating. The werewolf was always tense when he was awake, always irritated and angry. Isaac has said the anger was his anchor, which couldn't be healthy. When he was asleep all the muscles on Derek's face relaxed.

It shouldn't be allowed to be that attractive. There should be laws. It irritated Stile to no end. It occurred to Stiles just a little late that watching Derek sleep was creepy… maybe he could go watch Lydia sleep.

Stiles waited for the shift but it never came. He was still in Derek's room. How was that even fair? He tried again. Why couldn't he go to Lydia? He worshipped Lydia and the horse she road in on. That made him wonder who else he could follow if couldn't follow her.

Was it like teleporting to the gate but not going beyond it to the sidewalk? It was sidewalk he walked on every day. It should be in his range but his spirit form just… couldn't go there. Not without an escort.

The whole affair was starting to look way more complicated then Stiles liked.

"Well Derek, apparently I've grown attached. Or maybe you're attached to me. Didn't know you cared."

The corners of Derek's mouth twitched upward and how Sixth Sense was that?

"I'm gonna... go home. Let you sleep. I'll check up on you tomorrow."

"Sorry…" Derek breathed out, barely audible. It could have been a sigh.

"I know you are, big guy. But seriously, for once you had a solid plan. You couldn't have known."

Why was he talking to Derek so much anyway? Seriously, he needed to get his shit together.

"Sleep well, big guy. I… got places to be."

He concentrated on his room and was at his bed again. It had that just before dawn quality to it, where the shadows were light because they're just beginning to appear. He felt heavy, almost like he weighed something. Like this was the closest he was too himself. Which made sense—his room was where he ran too when he wanted to be safe. The sound of the front door rang through the house. Stiles teleported to his Dad's side as he was hanging up his jacket.

The man looked like hell. "You need to go to bed. Seriously." Stiles tried to shove his father, wondering if he'd feel the nudge towards his room. He didn't get an outward reaction from him. Instead, his father moved towards the kitchen. "You'd better not be going for the—damn it; you know you shouldn't be drinking." His father sat at the table and poured a glass. "You are not doing this. I—I won't allow it. I'm coming back. You'd better stop or I'll…" He picked it up but didn't take a drink, he just stared at it. "Come on, Dad." Stiles knew it was for naught but he had to try. His dad would have to decide it on his own not too drink it.

But John did eventually put the drink down. He walked back to the sink and poured it out before heading up to bed. Maybe they couldn't hear him, but at least what he had drilled into his dad was still working.

"I love you, Dad. Don't give up… On me, or on life if I don't come back. I don't care if you can hear me or not, you know that's what I'd want."

Stiles wondered, if he waited for his dad to go to bed, if he could talk to him. Derek had seemed to hear him.

But his dad sat down in front of the TV instead. Stiles was grateful for the distraction. This way he didn't have to be a creeper over someone's shoulder to be entertained.

He didn't try to talk to his dad again but the older man seemed to actually relax after a bit. Whatever thoughts he'd been having seemed to ease the tension in him, and he fell asleep Stiles came closer. "I'm alright, Dad. I'm watching over you. Get some sleep."

His dad smiled a little and Stiles felt better.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles nearly forgot about school. It completely slipped his mind it was Monday until he heard his alarm clock go off in the middle of the Top Gear marathon his dad had fallen asleep watching. The cool thing about being a ghost was you didn't get tired. Sleep was apparently an option, not a necessity. He debated going until it was about time for class to start. When Stiles got to school the rest of the teens were there. All of them were looking appropriately dismal about Stiles being gone. Turned out that Stiles got signal at Beacon Hills High… the teleporting kind anyway. He could Apparate around it freely like when he was at his house. And what did he do?

He went to his classes because finals were next week and when he got back, he wanted to breeze through the work he was going to have to make up. Lunch came and Stiles went out of habit. Scott was already there, tray loaded up with the usual. It was good to see his friend was still eating.

Once Scott had paid he turned, looking at their usual spot as he walked past it and to the pack's table. Stiles saw them all exchange looks before eating in silence.

Of course, after his death Scott would want to be part of their ragtag group.

The click of high heels on the lunch room tile was their only warning. A flash of red hair and bam, she smacked her hand onto the pack's table—the glorious Lydia Martin. She eyed all of them before sitting down. "Alright, I let the 'Jackson is a giant lizard and now a werewolf' thing go. But now Stiles is missing and you all obviously know something we don't because you're acting like he's already dead. You promised to stop keeping me out of the loop and what do you all do?"

Erica set her eyes on Lydia, standing to lean over the table. "It doesn't concern you." The blond looked rough. Her hair wasn't perfect like it usually was. There was light smudging to her makeup and… was that a twig in her hair? She looked about to lunge across the table at Lydia.

Lydia wasn't fazed. "Tell me what happened to him, or werewolf or not I will ruin you, Erica Reyes." Before Erica could swipe her with her nails Boyd took her hand. The blonde looked back at him with watery eyes and she sat down curling herself into Boyd's side. Lydia watched with a look of growing concern. "Is he…?"

They all looked around at each other, before Isaac met her eyes. "He fell into the spell circle while we were expelling fairies from the town. When humans pass into the fairy world, it pretty much fries their system. The spell closed us off to the fairy world so now Stiles is stuck there, probably critically injured. Whether or not he liked it, Stiles was always considered pack by us. It's like losing a limb, Lydia. We literally can do nothing." Isaac, sincere, sensitive Isaac, was staring down the most terrifying girl in school with a scary calm. "So forgive us if we aren't up to fucking talking about it."

They all looked at Isaac as if they were seeing him for the first time. Lydia seemed stunned. Several attempts at words came from her but she stopped almost immediately after. Stiles was feeling a similar reaction. That had been… well Stiles had no illusions about the fact he was kind of a dick, but to be that important to the pack was a little overwhelming.

Lydia looked down at her hands that were in her lap. "So, if he isn't dead yet…"

"He probably will be soon." Boyd's voice was hushed as he stroked Erica's hair. The blonde looked like she wanted to break something and clinging to Boyd was the only thing that kept her from tearing the cafeteria apart.

Everyone sat in silence as the rest of the school bustled around them. They were getting looks from their fellow students because word about Stiles disappearance probably reached them too. Allison arrived and hurried over to the table to join Scott, sliding in beside him. He wrapped his arms snuggly around her. The lunch attendants must have known because such PDAs were usually frowned up. They all knew Stiles though, and they knew who he… ran with (they did most of the running; what he did was more like flailing).

Lydia lifted her eyes to Boyd's after several long minutes. "What's Derek doing about it?"

"Trying to find a way around what the spell did. It won't break 'til the summer solstice. We don't have the three weeks to wait."

Lydia nodded. Jackson walked up to the table and sat next to Lydia, handing her a lunch tray. He didn't say anything as Danny followed soon after. Jackson had been more of pseudo-pack since his true love concurs all moment with Lydia. Stiles rolled his eyes. "I love how my disappearance has brought you all together. It's touching really. This is the stuff after schools specials are made of."

They all ate in a silence that was actually pretty companionable. Okay, Erica didn't eat so much as brood, preferring to stay curled up into Boyd's side with a slow boiling look of barely contained anguish and rage. Her control had always been bad, if throwing Stiles into a dumpster was any indication.

Jackson almost looked sad. Almost. He had the expressivity of Edward Cullen so the fact that he was almost conveying some kind of emotion spoke volumes. Danny kept looking at the werewolves with obvious concern. Stiles was pretty sure Danny knew all about the werewolf stuff going on. He sat behind Scott and Stiles in chemistry and they weren't exactly quiet. That and Jackson is the kind of friend who'd inform his bestie to the weird supernatural things going on.

When the bell for lunch rang the others stood to leave. "I want to help." Lydia announced. Her eyes moved from werewolf to werewolf and waited. "So… let me know, alright? Whatever you guys need."

Jackson gave them a short nod that Stiles was pretty sure meant 'what the woman said'.

Isaac walked away with tense shoulders, not even looking at her. Stiles didn't even know Isaac cared. Or Lydia.

Boyd nodded. "I'll give Derek your number."

This seemed to satisfy Lydia and she went to empty her tray.

Why did Boyd have Lydia's number? Stiles didn't even have Lydia's number!

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. Well, Stiles wasn't sure if it did or if time just moved weird while he was a ghost. The whole ordeal with watching them tell his dad felt like it had passed by really quickly. Lunch had felt like it dragged on. Ghost stuff just kept getting weirder and weirder.

After school the pack all assembled at the old Hale house. They gathered outside like a herd of uneasy pups, and Stiles wished they could hear him crack bad dog jokes to ease the tension. It was Scott who got the nerve to go inside first, followed by Isaac.

Derek was in the living room on an old beat up couch and surrounded by three piles of books.

Their eyes met and held. Scott and Derek didn't even breathe for the next couple of seconds. Then, slowly, Scott looked away with a sigh. "I want to be part of the pack."

Derek rubbed a hand through his hair. "Do you want to be part of the pack or are you just so worried about Stiles you need something to distract you?"

He sounded almost like that gay guy who gave advice to the Giving Tree on YouTube. As funny as that mental image was, Derek had a legitimate concern. Stiles had to think it was the latter.

Scott shook his head. "No, I really want to be a part of it. I—" He looked around. "Let's pretend. Say I joined up, day one, when you became alpha. The more you have in a pack the calmer and stronger you are right?"

Derek nodded.

"So you wouldn't have been power tripping as much if I had joined? Might have actually, oh, I don't know, NOT tried to turn Jackson?"

Isaac shifted closer to Scott. Erica and Boyd just looked at each other. The alpha sighed. "You don't know—"

"No wait, let's keep going. Then you would have still probably recruited them right?" He waved to the others behind him. "So you'd have been stronger? Without having Jackson's imbalance they'd have been stronger, if it were me and not Jackson. So when those fucking fairies invaded our town right? We'd have been a unit then. Isaac wouldn't have been on the fence and you wouldn't have had the craziness of the kanima shit to deal with. So we'd have all been solid. Together. A team. And it's all because I didn't join the pack!" Scott's voice cracked and Derek stood, coming forward. Stiles was shocked at the next few events that unfolded. Derek took Scott into a full bear hug.

Derek Hale.

Hugged.

Scott McCall.

Stiles was surprised Derek knew how to hug let alone engaged someone in a hug. Then again Derek has had a hard on for Scott being his wolf-bro since the beginning.

In Derek's defense his whole family did die in a fire that was set by his psycho girlfriend and left him nearly completely alone in the world. It was about fucking time someone gave the bastard a hug.

No one else seemed to think this was the weirdest thing they had ever witnessed. In fact, the rest of them came forward and joined.

Fuck.

Fuck Stiles with pine cones and call him a Christmas tree. They all actually gave a shit about him. Scott Stiles already knew about but the pack? "It's okay, Scott. It's okay." Derek whispered into Scott's hair. "It's not anyone's fault."

Stiles nodded. "Damn straight. Get down off the cross, Scott, somebody needs the wood. And you guys are going to figure out I'm not dead and you'll all feel stupid. I'll be back to making tasteless jokes in no time and you'll wonder what you ever got so upset about."

They didn't completely disengage when they were done hugging. They all just kind of sprawled out on the floor, looking a little less ragged, all kind of touching just a little (except Erica and Boyd who were pretty much plastered together). Stiles watched, fascinated. This was more cuddling than Stiles thought the pack capable of. It must have been a wolf thing. Scott finally found words after a few minutes of having his head pillowed on Isaac's stomach. "Don't you have an apartment in town?"

Derek didn't sit up to look at Scott, electing to stare at the ceiling. "It's hard to think there. Out here it's quiet. I've been reading up on fairies. There really is no way in until midsummer. On the upside, I found out that there may be a way for us to get drunk."

Scott gave a watery laugh. "On what?"

"Absinthe. Witches made it as a way of communicating with fairies or something." The pack nuzzled further into the pile. "So when you guys hit twenty one, it's going to be hilarious."

Stiles could not wait to see it. "That is going to be awesome."

Erica finally pried her face out of Boyd's chest. "What do you mean twenty one?"

"I'm the alpha, not your personal rumrunner. You want to drink underage, you find someone else to pilfer it for you." Stiles could see what Derek was trying to do. The jokes were more lighthearted then Derek had ever been. They had never lost one of their own before…. Stiles was one of their own.

How come they were like this only after he was dead?… well not dead.

Hopefully not dead.

Derek's face suddenly fell, and fell hard. Like it hit him the same time it hit Stiles.

He was dead, wasn't he?

Oh God. "I'm dead." Derek's face fixed itself before the pack could see it. "Now I'm stuck in this weird purgatory, doomed to watch you guys live your lives without me. That's what this is." Stiles knew if he were in his body he'd be having a panic attack. He wished he could get a hug.

He really needed a hug. It looked like the pack gave awesome hugs.

Derek ran his hands over his face and stood. "Alright, who is up for a run and killing something small and furry?"

Erica popped up. "In."

Scott sighed. "Don't see why not."

Isaac perked up as much as a mourning werewolf could, and Boyd followed them.

Stiles knew it was a bad idea to follow. When they left and the tug didn't happen he realized he had reception at the Hale house… and wasn't that sad?

Nothing like finding out who your friends are after the fact.

He wandered around the place with a freedom that he didn't have when alive.

(UGH HE WAS SO PISSED ABOUT ACCEPTING HIS DEATH LIKE WHAT THE HELL FAIRIES GOD STILES JUST WANTED TO PUNCH SOMETHING BUT HE'D JUST GO RIGHT THROUGH IT HOW STUPID WAS THAT ANYWAY THIS WAS SO MESSED UP)

The house really needed some sanding and painting and… all new walls.

Derek should fix the place up; several bedrooms and bath rooms, a sizable family room, a study, a dining room and a den.

Ha, den. Werewolves. He had a long eternity with himself okay? If dog jokes stopped being funny it would be even longer.

It could fit them all. Like a big club house. Stiles could be the ghost in residence.

Maybe this was like Supernatural? When Bobby (rest his soul) became a ghost and couldn't do a lot of cool shit at first? Yeah, that was totally it… hopefully the vengeful part didn't happen. Maybe he just needed to hone his skills.

Stiles concentrated on one of the books in Derek's stack. He focused every bit of his attention on it, on it moving just a quarter of an inch.

After about ten minutes of that, Stiles couldn't do it anymore. The bastard wasn't moving.

"God damn it!" Stiles went to kick the table and went right through it. He stopped and stared at it. Silently stewing in his anger.

He was really dead.

Fuck.

He ran his hands over his ghostly face. It just wasn't fair. Why was he still here? Did the universe hate him that much?

The pack came back just as it was getting dark, looking completely exhausted (which would not last long). They were even smiling a bit and laughing softly at the state of Erica's hair. There was some blood, but it was probably from a rabbit or a deer or something. They collapsed on the couch into their little heap again.

Stiles heart clenched. Scott had finally run with the pack—literally. It was the first time since his disappearance that Scott didn't look quite so broken.

"I always liked him," Erica whispered after the smiles had faded. "He was smart and funny… if a bit of an asshole. I think it was a defense though. I mean, you saw how much he really cared about Scott and Lydia and his dad… I both hated it and wanted him to care about me like that."

Scott laughed. "He cared, just… not as much I suppose. You were causing him increasing amounts of bodily harm."

She shrugged. "It's hard when pack are human too... he was always saving our asses."

Derek nodded.

Just then, the door swung open with a slow, dramatic creak. Peter walked in, all suave and menacing. "Hello children. Fine day, wouldn't you say?"

Derek glared as the pack all instinctively moved minutely closer to their alpha.

Stiles was in awe. They NEVER were this in sync before.

The edges of Derek's eyes were turning a bit red and that was new, mostly contained alpha instinct and all. "Where have you been?"

The older werewolf frowned at them. "Las Vegas. Did I… miss something?" He gestured to the lot of them.

"What do you care if you did?"

"It interrupted my trip, that's why. Sometimes werewolf instinct is hard to ignore. But I passed Jackson in town and the rest of them are here and accounted for so I'm assuming all is well."

Derek stood and stalked forward towards his uncle, who took a tiny step back.

It was like they were in Mirror-verse or something because that was a move of submission if Stiles ever saw one. Derek stopped in front of Peter but just as Derek looked like he was going to murder his uncle all over again… he stopped. His eyes went back to their normal green, and he ran a hand over his face.

Peter looked shocked, as he looked around Derek and did a head count. "Oh… Well that is unfortunate. But the good news is you finally seem to have put the lid on the alpha instinct. That is common for alphas that aren't first in line to inherit it. It takes a loss."

That made a kind of sense to Stiles. Derek had been a power hungry asshole ever since becoming alpha. This Derek was cuddling with pack and hugging people like it was no big deal. It was totally a big deal. It should go down in history as the biggest deal that ever occurred.

All it took was Stiles dying. Stiles dying meant that much to Derek.

Wow.

Derek took a deep breath before he said,"You are staying closer to home. No more wondering off."

Peter actually pouted. "Damn it, you don't even have to use the alpha voice anymore. Keep giving me orders and I might just rebel and kill you."

Derek grabbed the front of Peter's shirt, the smallest bit of the wolf creeping into his features. "Listen, old man. I lost pack to the Fae doing a ritual you found for us back in the old days. You're sticking around so you can help get him back."

Peter laughed, and immediately stopped when Derek's eyes glowed a constant red. "Wish I could help but unless he's become a mage or witch or something in my absence, your little spark has probably already gone out. The veil here has always been thin. The Hale family took up the job of reinforcing it. The spell tears down the old patch and puts up a new one in its place. While the patch sets it's nearly impossible to get through."

Derek let Peter go and ran a hand over his face again. Must have been a tick or something. "I knew that already."

"Then I suggest you let go of the idea that you'll find anything but a corpse on the other side."

Derek shook his head. "I can't… Not yet."

For a moment, silence fell and Stiles was sure Peter was actually considering giving Derek a hug.

Definitely Mirrorverse.

"For what it's worth I liked the boy's fire. I offered him the bite once. Wouldn't take it. Didn't even smell like a lie when he said he didn't want it. Looking back it's probably for the best that I didn't give it to him. Imagine that mind with werewolf brawn for a moment and tell me it isn't a bit terrifying."

Stiles laughed. "Almost sounds like you've got a bit of a creeper crush on me, Pete."

It took Stiles a minute to realize Derek was absolutely furious because the idea of Peter being a tiny bit afraid of him was refreshing. It wasn't every day that someone acknowledged what he was capable of.

So forgive him if he didn't turn right away to see Derek obviously holding back the urge to kill.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch. You're just mad that I even considered touching your precious human." But Peter rolled his neck in an obvious ploy to cover exposing his neck in submission.

Peter was actually being compliant.

Stiles looked to the ceiling and yelled, "Okay, Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, I get it! Weird pack dynamics actually work without me. Can I go home? Or at least get on with dying now?"

But no weird hooded reaper came for him. Peter actually came in and parked himself on the floor near the pack pile, mumbling something about pups.

At least someone would continue the dog jokes in his memory.

Suddenly Derek threw his head back and howled, low and sad. It echoed through the house. There was no reply and Stiles wondered what that was supposed to accomplish.

Derek howled again. The pack joined in, even Peter but he joined with some reluctance. Stiles recalled what he'd learned about howling; assembling, locating and communicating with pack…

They were howling for Stiles.

And even if Stiles answered they wouldn't hear him. Couldn't hear him.

Stiles threw back his head and gave his best howl anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

The pack's howl-fest ended and they all began to leave, except Peter and Derek.

Peter stayed on the floor, watching the younger werewolves disperse with mild interest. Scott was the last to go, standing in the doorway with uncertainty in his posture. Derek ruffled Scott's hair lightly. "See you at the next training meet up? It's Friday."

The tension eased in Scott's shoulders. "Yeah. I'll be there." It might have been that it was posed as a request that Scott was comfortable with it. That it was a request had Stiles almost alarmed; Derek didn't normally request things of the pack, especially Scott. When Derek shut the door behind his new beta, his shoulders slumped and he turned back to where his uncle was sitting.

Peter smirked. "You're so cuddly now. It's fascinating. Gonna start packing their lunches? Picking them up from lacrosse practice?" Derek glared and Peter rolled his eyes. "You are zero fun."

"Did you see them? They don't need me barking orders."

The older werewolf stood up and stretched. Sometimes Stiles forgot that Peter had muscles to spare like damn. Derek didn't seem as impressed and if Stiles were Derek he probably wouldn't be… that and it was his uncle. Peter rolled his shoulders with a content sigh. "It's your pack. Lead them how you want. Your mother was that way; caring and warm fuzzies."

It was like Peter realized what he said only after it left his mouth. Stiles had never heard them talk about the Hale family much, not the deceased ones anyway. There was a vague memory of a vibrant woman who his mother talked too. But as with most children, he didn't pay much attention to his mother's friends. Mama Hale had been at her funeral, and she had hugged him.

It was a couple years until the fire but… he never spoke to her again.

Stiles was more than a little mad that he couldn't ask them if they wanted to talk about it. He wanted to know what she was like, what they were all like. More so, he wanted the subject to stop making Derek look so haunted.

Ha, ghost jokes; Stiles had them.

He wished he could crack a joke and break the weird tension that formed in the living room.

Peter sighed. "I've been telling you, the only way to lead a pack is with heart." When Derek didn't reply, he sighed again, but this time with extra dramatic effect. "I'm heading to my apartment. You can hang out here if you want. Your life, not mine..." He started towards the door and paused with his hand on the knob. "I never blamed you, kid. Never."

The door shut behind Peter and Stiles swore the noise echoed through the house dramatically.

Stiles snorted. "Wow, he is just like Shakespeare in motion. I wonder if he pays a guy. You think he does stuff like…wait to open the door 'til lightning is flashing behind him or does nature just bend itself to accommodate him?"

The empty house creaked around them as the wind blew. Derek did a slow turn towards the empty living room and looked around. He took one breath, then another, and at first that wasn't weird—people breath all the time. After the breathing got harder and louder Stiles realized what was happening— the wolf was coming out.

"Derek, calm down. Deep breath— in and out. Remember your anchor? What was yours? Brooding? Come on. Oh shit!" Derek stalked towards the nearest wall and punched through it. Then he scratched and clawed at the walls, the ceiling and the floor. "Derek, you're starting to freak me out a little. You want to turn down the blood rage?"

But all Derek did was continue his path of destruction. It was like he wanted to tear the whole place down with his bare hands, board by board until there was nothing left. It was scary to see Derek like that—completely out of control.

"Goddamnit!" Derek threw one last punch at the wall and it felt like the whole house shook. Eventually the werewolf's breathing evened out and he pressed his forehead against the wall.

Stiles wished he could do something. Anything.

"Look at the mess you've made."

Slowly Derek turned and did look. The place was a wreck. Derek let out one last long breath, a hollow sounding sigh, before he suddenly walked briskly into the kitchen.

"What are you—"

But before Stiles finished the question Derek returned with a trash bin and broom.

It was both fascinating and bewildering as Stiles watched Derek pick up the pieces of wood and sweep up the dust. The living room slowly returned to as close to a neat state as it could (being a mostly abandoned building and all). When he finished Derek looked around with satisfaction at the clean room. You wouldn't know that a mere fifteen minutes prior he wolfed out and ripped the living room a new one.

Stiles looked around, impressed. "Derek, I don't think years of therapy will ever sort you out." But when Stiles turned to look at Derek again, the wolf was gone. Outside, the Camaro revved to life and Stiles teleported to the passenger's seat. "So where are we headed?" Of course, Derek didn't get a reply. The radio blared the local rock station from his speakers as they sped through the woods towards town. When he finally slowed down, they rolled up to Home Depot. "What?"

Once inside, Derek located an employee and just started buying shit. Everything you could possibly need—lumber, nails, paint and other stuff that Stiles didn't know what it did. The alpha then loaded what he could in the Camaro and arranged to have the rest delivered to the Hale house.

The drive back was quiet because Stiles didn't know what to say and Derek had turned off the radio. That didn't really matter because Derek couldn't hear him, but still. Usually talking was one thing Stiles did naturally, and silence made him uncomfortable.

Derek looked uncomfortable.

In his own car.

In his own, self-induced silence.

He didn't shuffle through the presets or fidget in his seat. All he did was stare out the windshield as he drove.

Derek took the long way, driving slowly passed Stiles' house. The lights in the kitchen were on and Stiles figure then would be a good time to check on his dad. Derek looked like he needed to be alone with his brooding. Stiles didn't want to have to sit through that.

"Thanks for the ride. Too bad I can Apparate so it's a bit redundant. Have fun with the renovations, bro."

Stiles didn't think following Derek around would be that appealing, but it had been. Derek, for all his faults, was the tiniest bit fascinating to watch when he didn't know someone was watching. So, while he wanted to see how the house went, he knew he should check on his dad. When Stiles teleported to the kitchen, Scott was with his dad at the table.

"—and Jackson just melted. Stiles looked like the world had ended."

The sheriff ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "I knew something had happened with her."

Scott nodded. "I'm pretty sure we all owe our lives to Stiles at this point."

His dad looked broken. "This whole time, my kid has been a hero and I didn't know."

To Scott's credit he didn't look seconds away from tears anymore. "Basically, yeah."

His father looked proud for a moment before shame set in. "What kind of sheriff doesn't know what's going on with his own kid?"

"The kind who raises a genius?" Scott sighed. "He wanted to protect you."

John nodded, but didn't look like he felt better.

* * *

The rest of the week Stiles spent mostly with his dad. He watched the search effort slowly begin to die down when no evidence was appearing. The rest of the department was obviously frustrated, while his dad just seemed… defeated. Stiles gave up on his dad sensing he was there.

Mostly, he was just proud his father didn't pick up a drink once.

When his dad slept, Stiles checked up on everyone. Scott was finally sleeping through the night—which was probably greatly helped by Isaac taking up residence in Scott's room.

Okay, so Stiles didn't check up on Boyd and Erica as much because he didn't want to appear in the middle of something R rated.

Checking up on Derek was the real gem. The first thing the alpha did was sand the door and give it a fresh coat of red paint. He replaced the floor in the living room and the stairs. The entire floor was ripped up and replaced in a matter of hours. Stiles wondered how the alpha knew so much about construction and by the time Derek started work on the roof Stiles was going insane from unrelenting curiosity about these mad carpentry skills that Stiles had literally never heard of. Derek having a practical set of skills was just… weird.

Twilight Zone weird.

Stiles' inability to be heard didn't stop him from talking of course.

He talked to everyone; Scott, Isaac, Boyd and Erica, and Derek. He talked to Derek a lot. It was just fascinating to watch Derek when he thought no one was looking.

He talked to his dad a lot, just about stuff. Mostly about how ineffective the search would be if he WAS actually missing.

His dad was asleep at his desk early Friday morning when suddenly his radio buzzed to life. "Stilinski."

His dad shot up and reached for the radio. "Here."

"We just got a report of a body found on the preserve near the river. Short brown hair, hoodie. We've advised the hikers not to touch the body."

"On my way."

Stiles felt panic set in as his dad scrambled for his jacket. His father's face had that numb determination on it that he'd seen way too many times when his mom had been getting close to the end of her fight. Stiles road shotgun in the cruiser and fidgeted the whole way. "It's probably not me. Dead bodies have become a popular thing in Beacon Hills. Isn't a full week if we haven't had someone maimed, right? I was taken by fairies. No way could the body get back through the veil. Derek said."

They pulled up to the spot the deputy had sent his dad and there it was. A body face down in the shallow pat of the river. It was the right height and the right hair. The clothes weren't right. Stiles hoped his body wasn't snatched and used for nefarious purposes. Stile's dad raced out. They were already taking crime scene photos of the surrounding area. The sheriff skidded to a few feet away. "We clear." The deputies looked at each other, then the crime scene photographer, who nodded.

John slowly walked forward and flipped the body over.

It was a girl. Stiles new her (sort of) from school. Her name was Emily. Stiles dad looked visibly relieved but not happy. Dead bodies that weren't Stiles had that effect on his dad.

He also looked about to cry. "I've seen her around town." His dad's voice was a little strained as the words came out. "She hangs out with that one girl… the dentist's daughter. I can't- I can't think of her name."

The deputies nodded. "Any sign of foul play?"

The sheriff shook his head. "Nah, no outward signs of trauma…" His dad checked her hands and arms. "No defensive wounds… possible drowning. She's pretty fresh. Might have only been here an hour or two." His dad ran a finger along her palm. "Some kind of… adhesive? Make sure to swab her hands for chemical make-up… just in case."

Stiles had always thought his dad was cool. Super cool cop, his dad loved to serve up justice. He should have his own TV show.

Instead of investigating further his dad stood from where he was crouched and stretched. The popping noises his back made were mildly disturbing. Stiles looked out over the river. It was peaceful. Calm. Not at all how you would picture a crime scene. Maybe the girl just drowned in the river. Sometimes it happens.

Movement caught Stiles attention in the woods across the river, but when he looked he saw nothing. It took a second to realize there was little sound but the river and even that was muted. It was like the world was afraid to draw attention to itself. It was summer and not a single bird chirped in the distance. But what had spooked them? If Stiles could only—the sudden pull of his father leaving had Stiles teleporting to the car. Thirty five feet—his service area was expanding.


End file.
